


Monster

by ilostmynuts



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: hp_springsmut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 20:38:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilostmynuts/pseuds/ilostmynuts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the 2007 HP_Springsmut on lj.</p><p>"Bill’s bite is affecting him. He goes to Snape."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monster

**Author:** [](http://ilostmynuts.livejournal.com/profile)[**ilostmynuts**](http://ilostmynuts.livejournal.com/)  
 **Recipient:** [](http://f13tch3r.livejournal.com/profile)[**f13tch3r**](http://f13tch3r.livejournal.com/)  
 **Title:** Monster  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Pairing(s):** Snape/Bill  
 **Disclaimer:** All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.  
 **Summary:** Bill’s bite is affecting him. He goes to Snape.  
 **Warnings:** None.  
 **Word Count:** @2600  
 **Author's Notes:** None.

  
When he was first savaged by Greyback, the pain was incredible. Not just the physical pain, which was agony in and of itself, but the pain that came with the thought that he had been changed. That he would never fit into society again. That he would be forced to be apart, to be fundamentally different from his fiancée and family. That he was no longer human. That he was a monster.

He recognized that Remus Lupin was a nice guy most of the time, but who would want to live that kind of life?

But then he woke up in the hospital wing with the pain gone. He was surrounded by his worried family and a fiancée who promised him all the rare steak he would eat if he would just get better again. He would be fine. He was still human. A scarred human.

He was relieved.

The war continued on. He found himself too busy to think about his scar or any of the little twinges of pain that began to accompany it. The pain was hardly noticeable and there were far bigger problems at hand. It was not until after the war, after the defeat of He Who Must Not Be Named by The Boy Who Lived, after everyone began picking up the pieces of their lives that the real trouble started.

The pain worsened to the point he was clutching his head in pain, dropping his wand in the middle of a curse-breaking session. His worried assistant hurried him to St. Mungo’s where the pain disappeared before he even spoke to a mediwitch. The staff scratched their heads in puzzlement. We don’t see any evidence of curses, they said. Perhaps it was the proximity to a new type of curse? Perhaps psychological? Come back if it happens again.

Then the dreams started. Violent, horrible, they had him waking in the middle of the night sweating and shrinking away from his sleeping wife. Fleur was a notoriously deep sleeper – she never woke on these nights and he would find himself staring at her sleeping face, her delicate soft neck that would be so easy to ri-

No.

He needed to talk to someone. Someone who was an expert on werewolves. Someone who knew how to treat them. Someone very discrete. Someone who would never even consider talking to anyone Bill was close with. Someone who barely spoke to anyone in general.

He went to Severus Snape.

Near the end of the war, the Order discovered just why Snape killed Dumbledore and seemingly betrayed them all. Though there was no love lost between the members of the Order and Snape (and still wasn't, even now), they were forced to work with him, as Snape’s actions ended up being decisive for the end of the war. He was exonerated shortly after and lived in a little apartment above Pyllida’s Potions in Knockturn Alley, selling rare and difficult potions to those who could afford them. Exonerated, he was still despised by many, whom he despised back with equal hate and was rarely seen in public. Bill wondered why he never left the country.

Bill pulled his hood tighter over his head as he hurried through Knockturn Alley to the decrepit potions shop. He wrinkled his nose at the smells inside. The store was empty save for an old crone, presumably what was left of Pyllida, who sat in the back corner behind the counter.

“Um, hello?”

The old crone stared at him without saying a word.

“I’m looking for Severus Snape.”

She grinned at this, thin lips pulled back to reveal yellow, rotting teeth. Wordlessly, she pointed to a door in the back.

“I can just go in?”

The old witch cackled in reply. Bill winced at the sound.

“Uh, right then.”

He pushed open the door and ascended the narrow staircase. The door to the apartment above was slightly ajar. He knocked on it and waited, but received no answer. Uncertain, he pushed open the door and peeked in.

“Hello?” he called. “Are you home?”

He took one step in and barely managed to avoid getting brained by a tea kettle. He heard Snape before he saw him, disheveled and furious, storming out of the back room brandishing his wand.

“I thought you said you were going back you filthy, disgusting-” he ranted only to stop abruptly when he saw Bill standing at the door. His eyes widened in surprise and for a moment a flash of something that looked like disappointment covered his face only to return to his usual cold mask.

“What are you doing here Weasley? This is not a place for the likes of you.”

Bill couldn’t help it. He stared at Snape, mouth agape. Snape frowned, realised what he was staring at, and flushed, quickly buttoning up the top of his robes to cover a prominent love bite on his upper neck. He smoothed his hair and glared at Bill.

“What the hell do you want you idiot?”

“I need help. It’s the bite.”

“Ah, the gift from our little furry friend.” Snape sneered. “Why would you come here for that? He bit you in human form so it shouldn’t affect you at all.”

“That’s just it. It didn’t affect me before, but now it hurts. I’ve been having dreams about killing and violent urges."

Bill paused.

“I need your help.”

Snape looked unconvinced. Bill looked away from his skeptical face and licked his dry lips.

"I know you make Lupin’s Wolfsbane. You probably know more about werewolves than anyone at St. Mungo’s.”

“Why should I help you?

“I can pay you, just as well any of your other customers.”

“A Weasley with money? What a novelty!”

Bill clenched his fists and fought down a spark of anger.

“Will you help me or not?”

Snape studied him.

“I want proof you can pay me.”

Bill reached into his robes and pulled out a small sack of Galleons. He tossed them to Snape who caught it easily.

“There’s more where that came from if you can help me.”

Snape looked inside and raised an eyebrow.

“I see the goblins treat their human pets well,” he drawled. He turned and strode to the back room.

“So it’s a deal?”

“Far be it for me to unleash another slavering beast into the world,” called Snape. “Take a seat and do try not to hump the furniture. I need a quill and parchment.”

It was two hours before Bill was able to leave. Snape grilled him mercilessly on every last detail of his problem, taking dozens of inches of notes.

“Come back in two days. I’ll have something for you. We’ll see how that works and take it from there.”

***

The first potion did nothing. He reported this to Snape, sweating and shaking after a particularly violent dream had him reaching out to his wife and gripping her so hard she woke up in fright. He told her it was just a nightmare and she fell back asleep assured, but he left her with bruises. He had never come so close as to actually touch her when he dreamed of killing. He had to leave. She slept on.

Snape listened to him with genuine interest and didn’t seem very surprised. He was dressed this time, despite its being the middle of the night, long black robes buttoned up to cover all of his neck. He asked questions and took notes, voice impatient and hand quick, frequently glancing at the clock.

“Come back later. I should have something else to try,” Snape said, ushering him out the door.

When he left through the back door of the potions shop, Bill noticed another figure slipping through the alleyway and going through the same door he exited. He raised an eyebrow as realisation hit. He went back home to find Fleur still asleep. The scents surrounding her, her blood, her body, her cloyingly floral shampoo, were so strong he opted to read in the sitting room until he fell asleep on the couch.

***

“I’m turning into a monster,” Bill confessed to Snape. He was the only one Bill had to talk to about this, even if half the time he looked bored or annoyed.

“Yeah,” said Snape noncommittally, engrossed in stirring the cauldron. “A disgusting beast.”

Bill ignored him. He had to talk to someone. Who could Snape tell?

“It’s the smells. I can’t stand her smell anymore. Her perfume, her shampoo, her nail polish, _her_. They turn my stomach. My own wife! And not just her, people on the street, some of their smells just make me want to rip them to shreds.”

“Hmmm,” said Snape, adding a quick note to a piece of parchment.

“Everyone’s smell, my mother’s, my father’s, my brothers’… even you.” He paused for a moment breathing in Snape’s scent and his eyes widened.

“So it’s a man visiting you, then?”

Snape’s head snapped around and he actually looked at Bill for the first time since he entered.

“What did you say?” he asked dangerously.

Bill put his hands up. “Never mind, never mind, it’s none of my business,” he said.

“Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out,” roared Snape and raised his wand.

“OK, OK!” Bill headed to the door. “I’ll be back later for the potion.”

“OUT!”

He slept that night and for the first time, didn’t dream of murder and death. Snape’s smell lingered in his mind and for the first time he dreamt of black hair and dark eyes and the scent of potions and sex and anger.

They had to change their sheets the next morning – Fleur was more amused than annoyed. Bill wondered why he suddenly found her attitude irritating.

***

Molly Weasley fixed a particularly large dinner one night, inviting Remus and Tonks, who came gladly As Remus pleasantly conversed with his mother, Bill found it hard not to stare at him. Remus’ smell was instantly recognizable.

“It’s so wonderful to see young love,” Molly said, smiling and Tonks and Remus and Fleur and Bill.

The women smiled and Remus laughed.

“I’m hardly young,” he demurred.

“Ah, but your love is,” Molly replied, beaming at the couple. “Will we be hearing wedding bells soon?”

Tonks grinned and clutched Remus’ arm.

“You’ll find out, won’t you?”

Remus chuckled at that and kissed her, looking at her with genuine affection. Bill wanted to punch him.

Remus smelled of sex and a certain potions master.

***

The next time Bill entered the little apartment above the potions shop, he barely managed to catch the heavy potions tome that came flying at his head. Snape came stomping out of the back room, started at the sight of the scarred man, and glared at him.

“You’re early.”

“You should really check and see who it was.”

“Hmmph. How do you know that wasn’t meant for you?”

“I’m early.”

Snape snorted and snatched the book out of Bill’s hands. He whirled around in a flurry of black robes.

“Your new potion’s in the back. Come and get it. I think this might be the right one.”

Bill hesitated. Snape smelled strongly of Remus today and Bill doubted he had yet showered.

“Have you read the news today?”

“I don’t read that drivel,” Snape snapped.

“He’s getting married.”

“Who?”

“Remus. To Tonks.”

“I fail to see what that has to do with me.”

Bill shrugged.

“Fine, fine. Just thought you should now. Marriage changes things, after all.”

Snape scoffed.

“As if marriage means anything to disgusting animals like you. I’m not blind," he hissed. “You’re all revolting little beasts who can’t even stop themselves from humping the furniture, disgusting monsters who would love to chew on their own wives. Taken a bite out of her yet?”

Bill snapped.

He hit him, knocking him against the bookshelves. Snape stumbled, scrabbling against the shelves for purchase, knocking several books to the ground. Hand on his cheek he looked up at Bill and for a moment they both looked at each other with identical expressions of shock. Then Snape’s face twisted and he laughed.

“Monster,” he rasped contemptuously.

Bill’s vision went red.

“Shut up!”

He grabbed Snape and kissed him, without finesse, without care, with teeth clashing and Snape’s hands clutching at his robes, whether to push him away or pull him closer, he didn’t know and didn’t care. Snape grunted as he pressed him hard against the bookshelves. He tasted blood; he didn’t know whose. His entire world had been narrowed down to kissing, touching, _taking_ the man in front of him.

“Shut up,” he growled into Snape’s ear, nipping at the lobe. Bill grabbed the fabric of Snape’s high-necked robes and pulled, the cloth tearing like tissue paper, buttons scattering on the floor, on the shelves. He was distantly aware of hands pushing at him, shoving at him, but he ignored them in favor of nibbling on a long pale neck, already dotted with marks that make him growl with anger. _Mine_.

The hands shoved harder and he snarled with annoyance, taking a quick hard bite of the neck on the largest mark, drawing blood. He licked at the small wound before grabbing Snape by the waist and forcing him to turn around until Snape’s front was pressed up against the bookshelf and Bill stood flush against his back. Snape gasped as Bill ripped at his trousers and pants and felt for his entrance, shoving a finger inside of him roughly. Snape fumbled at the remains of his robes and Bill found a small vial shoved into his hands a moment later.

“Use…”

Bill grinned and took out his hard cock, coating it with the stuff, before smearing the leftover from his fingers around Snape's hole. He took one last nip at Snape’s neck before thrusting inside. With that first stroke, something inside Bill howled with pleasure, as Snape gasped and struggled to stay upright, hands scrabbling for purchase on the shelves. With each thrust, Bill knocked them both against the shelf and the books trembled with them.

He reached around and touched Snape’s neglected cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. Snape moaned and came quickly with only a few rough strokes, pearly seed decorating _Potions through the Ages_. With the clenching of Snape’s arse around his cock and a few more brutally hard thrusts, Bill came moments later, emptying himself deeply into the shuddering body under him.

Leaning against Snape, he slowly brought his breathing back under control and pulled out. It was then he came back to himself and realised what he had just done.

“Oh Merlin… Fleur…”

He backed away from Snape, eyes filled with horror.

Snape laughed, a crazed, cruel sound.

“Maybe she should consider a leash.” He winced and touched the still bleeding bites on his shoulder. “And a muzzle. Accio wand.”

With movements that look far too practised, he set about repairing his clothing.

Bill watched in horror.

“Oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh Merlin…”

“Do shut up.”

Snape sounded almost bored. With a flick of his wand, the buttons flew up from the ground and magically adhered themselves back to his robes.

“I _am_ a monster.”

“I know,” Snape replied. He looked at him with dark eyes. “No other kind of creature comes here.”

Bill shook his head and quickly righted his clothing.

“I have to go.”

“I know. Don’t forget your potion.”

 _finis_


End file.
